


Golden Books

by acedtheblondetest



Series: Golden Books [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acedtheblondetest/pseuds/acedtheblondetest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiccup Haddock is - almost - your typical poor college student from the boonies going to school in the big city. Between work and school his life seemed a bit too hectic for much else, until he happened to come across a neat little niche of a bookshop one evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Books

**Author's Note:**

> Just the beginning of a fic I’ve been sitting on for some time uwu I really HOPE I can try to continue this one. Although honestly I actually I have more ideas for the PREQUEL fdnsd Series/Chapter title(s) may be subject to change!

What a day. He let out a sigh before reaching to rub behind his neck, leaning his head backwards as he did so.

"I love my job, I love my job." If he said that enough maybe he would feel better. Not so much maybe it would turn true, because he did love his job. Just not quite the people it made him have to deal with on occasion.

A pause-"They're not so bad..." He told himself, slow as he stuffed his hands back into the pockets of his long coat. Absently he watched his breath puff out in a wisp of smoke.

When it cleared he blinked at the space in which it had dissipated. He watched as what had been behind it down the block comes into clarity. Golden Books.

It was a neat little bookshop. It lay tucked between a tiny Korean restaurant on one side and a knick knack shop on the other. Golden indeed too. He could clearly see the light of the storefront through the waning sun of late afternoon and the haze of a mildly snowy city day. It looked quite warm, made him shudder shortly being outside of it, as if only then realizing the extent of the day’s cold.

Well-he did enjoy reading. Maybe it would be nice to have something to do when he got back to his tiny little apartment after work - something other than watch mindless TV on the few channels he could pick up.

His luck though, just as he came to cross the street he saw someone coming to the door. Come to the glass door and take the open sign in hand-"wait!"

When he reached the other side he automatically went to open the door, not thinking it might be locked. Fortunately it wasn't. Unfortunately, the worker was still there. "Hey, we're closed." He heard in a mildly annoyed voice, likely from the person that had pulled at the other side to close the door on his foot. It would be his one good one.

"Are you serious? It's not that late."

"Look-" He heard a sigh before a head appeared in the gap. Some deliriously bright blue eyes peered out at him. They paused, however, when they came to rest on him. Although he wasn't sure the quirked brow and lips were done in a good natured sort of way.

"Man, I'm sorry, but we're closing up shop today. Come back tomorrow." It was slower this time, a bit less annoyed. A bit.

Before he could respond, however, there was the small sound of a bell from inside. He didn't quite understand, but the snowy haired man apparently did by his turn and sigh. "Fine, you can come in for a sec. Be happy the boss is still here to say so."

He felt the pressure of the door pushing his foot into the jamb lessen. And with the full opening of it he was allowed to enter-the scent of vanilla overlaying a sort of lived in mustiness curling into his nostrils the moment he did so. The interior gave an equally conflicting vision. At points it was wonderfully neat and tidy, books lining the shelves with clean labels of genres at the top easily readable. They appeared to be set into the walls themselves, or expertly hidden. Two sofas back to back were at the center of the floor. They may once have had a pattern to them but after years of wearing down they appeared more a brown splotched with occasional deep red. Beneath them was an odd quilt-rug whose wild colors and patterns were only subdued by the soft, incandescent sort of light that the hanging fixtures, old lamps, and fireplace cumulated to cast on everything. 

Stacks of books that were not tucked neatly into the shelves stood bookend to the sofas and along either side of the counter that wrapped around the face of the brick chimney and hearth. They towered to the point that he wondered if they created a fire hazard should anyone step too heavily near them and send them toppling all too close to the flames.

Sitting on a stool behind the business counter, just to the right of the surely antiquated cash register, sat a small fellow made all too gold by the light of the fire behind him. The middle aged man with a faintly receding hairline of straw smiled before their eyes even met. He gestured to him, then to the clerk from before.

“This is Sanderson Mansnoozie, the owner of this store, and ya know, my boss.” Said the clerk, a bored expression apparent on his face as he stood resting his hands atop a broom, his chin lazily seated on them. He stood with one foot bent behind the other at the ankle in ease and in a yawn. After a second gesture, to him, he sighed and looked to their guest. He straightened and held out his broom before bending over exaggeratedly in a bow. “And I’m Jack, at your service o annoyingly late one.”

Ah-what a way to greet a customer. He settled back into himself following the short awe of the odd little nook that this place was, lips thinning and brow rising at the comment from ‘Jack.’ “What bookstore closes at six anyway?”

“We do, Mr.-“ Jack was cut off by another ring, making him wince, then groan. Only now did it become noticed that that sound was coming from a little gold bell Mr. Mansnoozie had sitting on the countertop. “And your name?” Jack asked, ignoring the other’s obvious confusion at the exchange.

“Ah-uh-Hiccup,” he said, “Hiccup Haddock.”


End file.
